We're Used to the Night
by FreyjaBee
Summary: The best way of keeping a secret is to pretend there isn't one. Until you can't pretend anymore. Two-shot. Rated M for sexual content, language, mature themes.
1. Chapter 1

Fairy Tail belongs to Hiro Mashima

Warnings:

 **Sexual content. Swearing. Drinking. General bawdiness** ** _._** The usual culprits from me.

 ** _Mature audiences only, please._**

 ** _We're Used to the Night_**

Walking next to Sting, I'm close enough that I can feel his body heat through his shirt. I don't think he notices that I try to get close, or if he does, he doesn't think too much on it. I try not to either. I tell myself that it doesn't matter, he's just a friend, we're just partners, and if my skin gets hot when I'm around him, it doesn't mean anything.

Because it shouldn't.

If I go home and jerk off thinking about Minerva, her mean smile, her huge tits and her taste for the cruel, and finish by thinking about Sting… well, I tell myself it's just because I'm always thinking about work. About running Sabretooth, about my next job. We've been together for as long as I can remember, so it's only natural that he's going to invade _some_ of my private thoughts. Only, it's not some, it's _all_.

From beneath my lashes I shoot a look his way. In the early-summer sun his hair is so blonde it looks white, his eyes are so blue they could burn me up. His smile is fast and wicked and callous, brimming with sarcasm. "See something you like, Rogue?"

Caught, I do the only thing I can think of. Say nothing and face forward. It's super effective.

Sting claps me hard on the back. "Don't worry, buddy, nothing to be ashamed of. I know I'm a fucking fantastic, sexy bitch. If it gets you wet in the pants, you wouldn't be the first and fuck, I hope you're not the last."

"Fuck off," I tell him and walk faster, pulling away from his side. Sabretooth's guild hall is in sight, which means my office, with its four walls and its closing door. Privacy. Really, it's the Master's office, but I always end up doing most of the work for Sting, so I've come to think of the space as mine. I don't mind usually; it keeps me busy. If my mind is occupied with other things, it's not filled up pining over what I can't have.

"Hey!" Sting calls. "I was just fucking around!"

Ahead of us a white haired beauty steps out of the guildhall. There's a sweet smile on her lips and little clothing on her hips. "Hi, Sting!"

Again, I look Sting's way. Why? To torture myself, I guess. Yeah, he's looking, just like I thought. Yukino. Yukino. Yukino. I'm not going to lie, there have been moments in my life that I'm not proud of. They range everywhere from the Rogue I've yet to become arriving at the Grand Magical Games and fucking everything up, to fourteen-year-old me changing how I look and act to get a girl's attention because I thought that's what I _should_ want. That technique isn't going to work here. I can change my smile, I can change my hair, I can change my clothes and the way I act, but I can't change my sex.

"Hi, Rogue!" Yukino calls next. She's jogging towards us now. everything bounces just as it should. Maybe I would have taken more time to appreciate her—I'm not _blind_ —but I'm focused. I barely grunt when she's in hearing range. She only really has eyes for Sting, anyway. I hear her come to a stop, I can _smell_ the increase in pheromones from both her and Sting. To get away from it I walk as fast as my long legs will take me. I can hear Yukino whisper, "What's wrong with him?" seconds before I tear open the guildhall door and find solace inside.

* * *

A sharp knock on my office door startles me from my deep thoughts. There are scores of papers strewn on the desk around me, all with red numbers crossed out in black ink as I dole out money from Sabretooth's coffers to pay for things like guild repair, booze and food, and any costs our mages might inflict while working. It seems more and more cities are getting damaged on jobs. Does Sting care? Nope. He doesn't see the money though, to be honest.

The knock sounds again. "Yeah." I know who it is, I can see the leather of his boots from under the door.

Sting comes in. For once there's no smile on his face. "What's up?"

"Working," I reply curtly. I'm in no mood to see him.

Does Sting ever take a hint, though? He grabs the other high backed chair in front of the desk and spins it around so he's straddling it. Then he crosses his arms over the back and rests his chin there. "Yukino thinks you're mad at her."

 _Yukino_. Mad? I could hate that preppy, upbeat, gorgeous girl for no reason. But I don't. Well… not _so_ much, anyway. "I'm not mad. I had stuff to do."

"Yeah, that's what I told her. There is something eating you, though. What is it?"

I imagine opening my mouth and telling him. I imagine getting up from my chair and going to him. I imagine taking his face between my hands and kissing him. I imagine—

"Rogue, holy fuck, you're a space-case."

"Nothing's bugging me," I say.

"Right. Sure." It's always easy for him to bowl over uncomfortable things. I'm envious. "Listen, we're going to need some extra food for tonight."

"Tonight?"

He gives me a _duh_ look. " _Yeah_ , tonight. Summer Solstice, remember?"

No, evidently, I didn't fucking remember, but now I do. Sting takes every chance he can get to party, and with the Summer Solstice upon us, why the hell not? "Yeah, I'll go to the market."

"Good. Get those fried bread thingies—you know the ones."

"Yeah." I know all of Sting's favorite foods. Pathetic.

"Alright." He gets up from the chair and goes to the door but stops with his hand on the doorknob. "Hey, maybe apologize to Yukino, eh? She was pretty upset."

I nod and say sure but I know I won't.

* * *

Though I try to sneak off and spend the night alone in my room, Sting sees me slinking through a hoard of people and grabs me by the bicep, keeping me in place. I don't even know where he comes from, which is odd, I usually know where he is.

"Where are you going?"

"Home," I reply.

"Come on, Rogue, party with us," he begs. I agree because even though I'm despondent, I can never, ever say no. Sensing he's won he leads me back past Minerva who loans me a flirty smile. She's in something that could really only be considered underwear, but is she abashed? Not at all, she thrives off the attention. Because she's so drunk she probably won't remember in the morning, I give it to her, grinning back and grabbing a handful of her ass on the way by. She squeals. _Squeals._ Minerva. Probably because no one other than Sting or myself would dare to treat her that way. Maybe it makes my dick a bit hard, but I'm just not that in. When will I get tired of this game?

"There you go, _that's_ how to have fun," Sting praises.

I don't reply.

At the bar he taps the countertop and orders us both whisky. When the shot glasses come he hands me one then clacks his against it hard enough to spill some alcohol over the curved brim. "To being a fucking awesome Master."

I grin tightly.

"I couldn't do it without you, buddy." He wraps his arm around my shoulder in a rare show of affection. I stiffen but hasten to wrap my arm around his middle. I can feel his bare skin. It's warm and smooth. Beneath it is hardened muscle that clenches and moves under my fingers. I want to linger there but Sting is already pulling away, turning to face…

Yukino.

Of course.

I swallow my whisky and order another while Yukino gets herself settled on a barstool next to Sting. "Hey, Rogue," she calls around his body.

"Hi," I reply.

"You know, you're always so broody," she says with a snorting laugh. She's very, very drunk I realize. "You're so…" She wriggles her fingers, searching for the correct adjective and lands upon, "Mysterious. You must have all kinds of women coming after you."

She's not incorrect. There are plenty of women that chase me through the streets, first looking for my autograph then a date. I diligently tell them all no until I'm drinking, then I tell them all yes.

Sting nudges her. "Jealous, Yuki?"

Another whisky comes my way.

Yukino flushes. "Jealous?"

"I'll let you in on a little secret, Rogue never puts out until he's fucking wasted." Maybe Sting was drunk, too.

I shoot him a sideways glance. There's a wicked gleam in his eye. He's thinking something, and I'm sure I'm not going to like what.

"Me, on the other hand, I'm always ready. All you have to do is ask."

Yukino goes several shades of red. She's a hot, stammering mess.

"So?" Sting teases when she still hasn't formed a sentence. Not wanting to hear her reply, I effectively tune them out, going for my fifth drink. I'm not drunk yet, but when it hits, I'm going to make sure it hits hard.

* * *

An hour later my heads swimming. Yukino has yet to find her metaphoric balls, but Sting has her butt up on the bar and he's between her legs, teasing her every step of the way, trying to get a confession out of her. I'm sure she'll end up in his bed, which means it's way past the time I find mine. I think Sting is so enthralled now, touching Yukino lightly here and there to tease a reaction from her that he won't notice me leaving. Like always, I'm a shadow, slipping from his side and sliding between bodies. No one talks to me. They're afraid, they don't know what to say, they think I'm a dick for always being so quiet. Take your pick.

Going out the back way, I try to go through the alley back to the main street. Behind me, the back door opens, throwing the alley into dim relief as someone exits the guild.

"Rogue." There's a flick and a sharp inhale. The alley fills with the scent of cigarette smoke. I don't want to turn; I can't help myself. Sting has a dark amber bottle of beer in one hand, a cigarette in the other. "Where you going, man?"

"Home," I reply. "I'm done for the night, I think. I have work to do tomorrow."

Sting waves me off. "Maybe you should take a day off. We _just_ got back from a job, we're partying, why the hell not?"

Because being idle means having time to think, and having time to think means having time to pine. "I just got a lot of shit to do." I try to keep walking.

"Hey." Sting comes and grabs my bicep, pulling me to a standstill again. He's so close I can smell him. Cigarettes and alcohol and cologne and Yukino's sweet perfume. "What's going on with you lately? You've always been broody, but holy fuck."

I search his eyes and lie. "It's nothing."

"Come on, I know you better than that."

"Just forget it, Sting." I try to wrench out of his hold. His grip is iron-tight.

"Hang on."

I don't. I try to shake him off. He pushes me back so my back is against the wall and he's standing in front of me. The smoke from his cigarette is in my nose, burning. It smells gross, but it also smells good. It smells like him. I look into his eyes; he's intense, _something_ unreadable is happening there. Between my legs tightens. " _What?_ "

"Just come back in. There's a chick from town that wants to meet you. She's hot as fuck. I bet you won't even have to try—"

"I don't give a _fuck_ about girls." It's out of my mouth before I can stop it.

Sting is silent. "Like, at _all_?" he asks finally.

My neck is burning hot; my stomach twists unpleasantly. _It's okay, it's okay. He'll be too drunk to remember tomorrow_. "Excuse me."

"Hang _on_." He shoots out the hand holding the cigarette, planting it on the wall, and blocks my path. I try to go the other way. He does the same thing, beer bottle clacking loudly against the brick behind my head. He's suddenly closer than he's ever been before, his face inches from mine. He breathes out and I feel it. My mouth is dry.

"So is it guys then?"

"Get the hell out of my way."

"Answer me."

I feel paralyzed. "You're hammered. Move."

He doesn't. Casually, cockily, he uproots the hand holding the cigarette and takes a big haul off of it. I don't know how he does it, it burns my nose and makes my skin prick. "So," he muses, exhaling to the side. " _That's_ why you're always looking at me, isn't it?" His grin turns fierce.

My cock is harder than it has any right to be. "I'm always looking at you because you're always talking shit," I say roughly and grab his shoulder to push him aside. He's unmovable.

"You do; you want to fuck me." He laughs, teeth flashing. I've imagine this a lot of ways; sometimes he gets mad, sometimes he gets serious, sometimes he laughs just as he is now. I hate that I know Sting too well. Disgusted with myself I push him with purpose, absolutely determined to get away. He pulls me back with just as much force, pushing me against the wall. He's not laughing now. I wonder if this is the point where he freaks out, if I'm going to find out what it's like to honestly be on the receiving end of one of his punches, but when I look into his face it's not anger I see, it's something else entirely. He's too close again.

"Have you ever kissed another guy?"

"No," I say immediately, hoping that it comes out indignantly. It's barely a whisper.

He licks his lips then does the improbable. He closes that hairsbreadth of space between us and kisses me. His lip is rough with stubble.

I can't even think. First I'm sure I'm dreaming. Then I'm sure that he's just fucking around. Then he pushes his body against mine, a strained grunt living in his chest, and I'm undone. I open my mouth when his tongue brushes my lips. Cigarettes and whisky have never tasted so good on someone else. My cock is so hard it hurts, and there's no hiding it.

Over my head Sting passes his cigarette into the hand that's holding the beer. Free, he drops his hand between us and grabs me. My chest feels small, too small to keep breathing. I do, somehow, though it stalls and catches when he starts rubbing me. His teeth find my lip and he bites hard.

"This is what you wanted?"

I can't respond. I don't need to, he knows. Releasing me, he starts messing with his belt. His mouth comes away from mine. His breathing turns erratic. Mine matches his when I realize what he's doing. ' _Wait_ ,' is on my tongue, but I don't say it, afraid that if I do I'll break whatever spell we're both under and his interest will turn to disgust. His zipper is loud in the graveyard quiet night. I look down our bodies and watch him pull himself out. He's totally erect, veiny and swollen. My already tight chest gets even smaller. I watch him rub himself for long seconds, then I get brave and grab him. He immediately takes his hand away and finds my shoulder, then he's kissing me again. I take over where he stopped, jerking with uneven movements. I'm too nervous to do well.

When he gets annoyed he takes his mouth away and whispers, "Get on your knees."

I can't. I can't move.

"Do it, Rogue." Sting sounds so confident I'm sure he's done this before. As soon as I think it I know it's true. I thought my secret was the only one between us, but I was wrong.

He pushes me down when I don't do it all on my own so I'm level with his erection. The concrete beneath me digs into my knees, my palms when I stabilize myself. Sting pushes his hips forward so he brushes against my mouth. "This is what you want, isn't it?"

 _Isn't it?_ So much I can't think. He hits my lips again and I open my mouth. His girth and length are too much. I do what I can, opening as wide as possible. He settles in deep and breathes out a satisfied sigh. He throbs on my tongue. Looking up, I watch him tip his beer into his mouth and take a huge swig, then he plants his hands on the wall again and starts thrusting. Like I said, I've never done this before, but I know how _I_ like it, so I try to mimic the movements, swirling my tongue, sucking hard, then soft. Sting's eyes close. The cherry on his cigarette burns out. He finishes his beer and throws the bottle away. It breaks loudly on the pavement. I worry about the sound drawing someone out. The thrill of getting caught like this is exhilarating.

"Take your cock out," Sting whispers.

I get harder.

"Rogue, take your cock out," he repeats. I fumble to do what he says and struggle to get it around my restrictive clothing. As soon as I touch myself I know I'm oversensitive and way too hard, a state that's exacerbated when he whispers, "Jerk it off."

I do. Sting cusses and starts thrusting again, faster than before. I match my strokes and know it won't be long for either of us. He grabs the back of my head to keep me in place. I grab his thigh to help, then his ass.

"Fuck," he swears louder. "Almost—almost—"

I'm already there. When I come it's almost on his shoes. There are bright spots behind my eyes. I moan around his cock. He tightens his grip on my hair and holds me still. His body swells in my mouth and throbs, and then he's coming too.

He stays that way for long seconds, pushed deep inside my mouth. Only when he steps back can I draw breath and swallow. Staring at his shoes I wipe my mouth, unsure of what to do next. My fantasies never got much beyond _this_ moment.

"Get up." He grabs my bicep and helps me rise. We're eye-to-eye. He kisses me again, unafraid to taste himself, then he squeezes my softening cock. I let it happen, used to the night and the secrets it keeps.

* * *

 **A/N:** I thought long and hard about how to do this. And _then,_ true to form, I threw all of my planning aside and let impulsiveness and blind stumbling take me where they would. Is it sweet? No. I'm no good with that shit, sorry. This is the first time I've ever written _anything_ like this. In terms of man on man, that is. I'm not a guy, just saying, so it's probably terrible. Unfortunately, that is one life experience I cannot impart in my writing. _HOWEVER_ , it was a blast to write and I regret nothing.

Liked it? Cool stuff.

Hated it? That shit will happen.

Either way, thanks for reading! Check out my Facebook page, Kaitlin Corvus, and like it for a chance to win a free copy of my book! Details will be coming out shortly :)


	2. Chapter 2

Knots dig into my skin and I'm nervous. I can't say exactly _why_ ; we've done this enough times that I should know what to expect from Sting. He's never tied me up, though. Is that all it is? He likes control and he likes taking it from me and I like _giving_ it to him, but there was something in his eyes when he cinched the knot tight around my wrist and told me, "Lay up for a few."

He's never made me wait before, either.

I was rock hard before he walked out of the bedroom and out of the house. Now I'm just soft—and naked. At least I'm not totally confined—I can move my hands far enough away from the bedpost that I can stroke myself. Why did he give me so much rope? I don't know that, either, but I'm alright with the way things have played out. I think of Sting while I touch myself in an attempt to be ready for him when he returns. It'd feel better with some oil but I know he doesn't like the way it tastes so I hold off. Eventually, it stops feeling awkward and starts feeling good.

I'm in the midst of a really great fantasy when Sting finally comes back. I keep my eyes closed and listen to his approach but quickly discover that something isn't quite right. I can hear four feet hitting the ground, not two, and two of those feet are in heels. My eyes come open at the same time the bedroom door does and I think I want to die. Yukino comes in first; she's already red-cheeked and she hasn't even met my eyes yet, and then Sting comes along behind her. I have nothing to hide with, not readily, anyway. It's a struggle to get the blankets up and around my body and by the time I do and spit out an indignant, "What the fuck?" Yukino's already seen everything I have to show her. She blushes more; I can hear the breath come in her lungs and out of her lungs noisily, I can hear her heartrate, and I can hear Sting's, too. I know what has him twitchy, the evidence is in his pants. He's hard and the reason is obvious.

"Surprise." Sting smiles and pushes Yukino gently between the shoulder blades. "Say hi, Yukino, don't be shy."

Yukino's blues come up to meet mine fleetingly. "Hi."

"After all those nasty things you whispered in my ear, you can do better than that," Sting teases.

" _Sting_ ," I hiss because he's either deranged and can't read the tension in the room or he's deranged and doesn't care.

Sting closes the door behind Yukino and brings her to the bed. She stands at the edge; I adjust the blankets and remember again that I'm tied up. Sting hasn't forgotten. He takes the rope and uses it to pull me around so I'm facing him. There is heat to his eyes but there's also a seriousness that is hard to ignore. "Do you trust me?"

"Trust you?" I look at Yukino and the answer seems evident.

"Don't look at her," Sting tells me and I give him my attention once more. "Do you trust me, yes or no?"

"You brought _Yukino_ into my bedroom," I say lowly as if she isn't standing right there and as if she _cannot_ hear.

"She was curious about us."

And just what was he doing to her to _make_ her that way? Jealousy is a monster I _thought_ I put aside but there it is, back and as alive as it's ever been.

"Can we show her?"

I search for jest in his eyes. There is none; Sting is serious. I get hot and I get hard, too, though _why_ I cannot say. Sting starts undoing his pants and I get a little harder; the blanket doesn't hide me now. When he pulls himself out completely and leans toward my mouth, Yukino's fingers clasp and her breathing arrests. I shoot a fleeting look her way. She's looking on with rapt interest and though I'm not sure how I feel about being a spectacle, I can't deny that I enjoy having Sting on my tongue while she watches, this girl that's always captured my jealousy for her relationship with my partner.

Sting holds the back of my head and slowly moves his hips. At first, it's awkward but he moans and I almost completely forget that we have an audience. He wants to see me, though, and pulls on the blanket, and I become painfully aware once more, fighting to keep everything in place while Sting fights to do the opposite.

"Please," he says and like soil eroding beneath a storm front, my will disintegrates. My erection is back, tall and proud and harder than it was before we started. I wonder if I should be ashamed. And then Sting touches me and I wonder if I should care. He likes to be teased but he doesn't have the patience for teasing. His strokes are always sure and made with one goal in mind: making me come. Today, however, something else is different, too. He's taking his time.

Yukino shifts again. Her fingers are sewn in the small white dress she's wearing and my body experiences another flush. For some reason, seeing her enjoyment—I haven't been out of the game of fucking girls for so long that I don't recognize that finger clench—makes me harder. I moan and Sting thrusts deeper into my mouth. I almost don't identify the sound of kissing; I'm so caught up in the moment. My eyes are open again and Yukino and Sting are all I can see. He kisses her with enough passion that I'm breathless for her and when he pulls back, Yukino's eyes flutter before they open. She still looks like an angel and I still hate her for it.

I love the look Sting has on his face, though. I love the way his cock swells in my mouth, too. I love the way he tells Yukino to, "Take off your dress." And I even love the way that Yukino, like me, jumps to do his bidding.

She's soft curves. She's naked beneath her dress. She's leaning into Sting and I'm not telling her no. I'm sucking faster and deeper and I'm breathing heavier and I'm losing my mind. That's the only explanation. It's not a state that eases when Sting takes both his hands off me to fill them instead with Yukino. I watch, transfixed, because I know that Sting has always liked women more than I have, and I even know that for these last few months we've been together, he's been with them, too, I just didn't know that he was knocking on _Yukino's_ door, and I want to watch the way his facial expressions change. I want to know if he wants her more than me. The answer may destroy me. I still need to have it.

Sting is a blank slate, his emotions hidden behind a veil purposefully opaque. He takes Yukino by the shoulder and pushes her to her knees. I think Sting wants her to do the job I'm doing and I'm not very eager to give it up. He pulls my hair until I'm forced back and then he pushes Yukino into my place. I try to lean back to let Sting know how unhappy I am about our roles but he won't let me. He pulls me closer and his meaning is clear. I lick where Yukino isn't sucking and I can taste lip gloss and Sting and I can feel her lips, too, when she's too fast. It's more thrilling than I think it should be. Yukino reaches behind herself and grabs me and I could come. When I don't, it's a fucking miracle.

Sting swears loudly and pulls harder on my hair. I look up and his cool demeanor has been fractured. He's watching Yukino work and he's all desire. Yukino sees, too, and she pulls away so she can smile at him; her shyness is gone, she's been swept away by some insane disease that starts with an L and ends with a T and I am, too. I kiss her and it's shocking for us both. I've thought of this in passing and that's all. I'm not sure if it feels like in avoiding this, I've cheated myself but when I look at Sting through my lashes I see that _he_ thinks I have. He swears again and kneels. He kisses me first and it's fortification for what I'm about to watch him do. Yukino's mouth is taken by his just as roughly, but he doesn't linger and that's good for me.

Sting stands again and pushes me back on the bed. "Get on top of him," he tells Yukino and she does, straddling my hips. I can feel her heat and I want her more than I've wanted any woman before, if only because Sting wants me to want her. He unties the rope from the headboard and I see now why he left it so long. Yukino doesn't resist as he wraps her wrists up. We're tied together now and I don't even mind. She kisses me again and I don't mind that, either. It's a sensation builder. Sting brushes his hand over my erection and I'm close to coming again. He knows this and squeezes so tight, it hurts a little and the feeling passes. He jerks fast but not for long. He's gone before I can bend into his rising and falling hand. I hear plastic tear and feel him touch me again, sliding a condom on. When he's done he commands of Yukino, "Fuck him."

Yukino lifts her hips without question and slides back. She's silk. Hot, hot, hot. I bite my lip until it hurts and think about closing my eyes. If I do, though, I can't see what Sting is doing next and I badly want to watch him as he gets on the bed, too, behind Yukino, and crouches down. I can feel his tongue on my shaft. He slides it up and licks Yukino, and comes back down for me, too. He's sure never to give one of us more attention than the other. If he does let his tongue linger too long on Yukino, his fingers pleasure me.

Yukino's kiss turns sloppy and I anticipate what's going to happen. Her body tightens on mine like a wet vice and then she's screaming onto my tongue. I swallow all the sound back and try _hard_ not to come. I do anyway.

Yukino stops moving her hips and tries to catch her breath. Sting isn't done yet, though, and smacks her behind. "Get up and change places."

I wait patiently for Yukino to move. It's awkward with our hands tied together but Sting doesn't look like he's interested in changing that. Finally, she's lying where I was and I'm on my knees between her legs. Sting takes some time and rearranges us, pulling her legs between and over my arms and then spreading her as wide as she can go. He pushes me down and holds me there. He watches me lick her, and then he joins in just long enough that Yukino's quivering again, sensitive but on the edge of an orgasm. Sting kisses me last before he gets behind me. When he enters I know both bliss and pain. I focus on neither and bring Yukino back to a place where she's on the edge of orgasm. Sting grabs me by the hips and increases his speed. I can't breathe and I can't stop. Pain fades and it gradually feels good. I feel Sting swell inside of me at the same time Yukino grabs my hair with her tied hands and comes loudly.

The moments that follow are split up by our breaths, heavy, ragged intakes of air that turn into weak puffs on the way out. Sting comes out of me and discards his condom. He reaches around and does the same for me, too. Both go into the garbage can on the other side of the dresser. He comes back to the bed and flops down with the casual, devil-may-care grace he has and unties our connected hands. I rub life back into the skin when I'm free.

All of my blood is returning to where it should be and I think I'm mad. Mad at Sting for bringing Yukino in, mad at him for telling her about us, mad at myself for sharing and liking it. Mad at myself for getting mad. I look at Sting and I see peace on his face. Yukino is reaching for that state, too. I try to see beyond my own quandaries. Sting knows me well. He reaches for me and pulls me down between them and wraps his arm around my middle. He pulls Yukino in after and her arm joins his around me. The hellish little demon, the jealous monster that had been sleeping before once again rests its ugly head. I wonder if it'll be forever.

* * *

A/N: Reaching WAY back into the Archives. I've been sitting on this continuation for about a year. In my head, of course. I could never write something and not post it for that long. Anyway… It's way more graphic than I've been in a while (though not nearly as graphic as it could have been, I suppose) and it's in a tense and POV I don't normally use. Sorry for any mistakes and thanks for reading!


End file.
